A Taste of Love
by HopeCrowe
Summary: Just a little scene with the prompt "Cristina cooks". In which, suprisingly, Cristina tries to cook for Owen emphasis on "tries" .


Owen was coming home today. The Chief had sent him off to some week-long conference in New York. Some stupid trauma convention where they exchanged pen-tracheing techniques or learned other comparably badass abilities, but Cristina couldn't care less because she would have rather not been forced to go without Owen's "techniques" for a week. But right now that wasn't even the issue.

The issue was that she had several bags of groceries on her counter and she was still confused about what to do with them. She remembered how she got into this predicament and couldn't help but smirk despite the situation.

"I can't wait to be home" she had heard him say last night. It warmed her inside to hear him so ready to come back to her, about as much as she yearned for him to come back.

"I can't wait for you to _come_ home" she urged. "Do you want me to get something for dinner? You'll be home around 8, right?" Owen sighed.

"Yeah…I just don't want restaurant food or take-out…I've had that for a week straight, I want something from home. Don't worry about it, I can make something simple when I get back"

"I'm not useless" Cristina said. "I'm a surgeon, I can make my boyfriend some dinner, if I want. You'll have had a long trip from the east coast"

"Cristina, it's okay…I know you can't cook" she could hear the challenge in his voice and it had its desired effect.

"I could cook if I wanted, I just never have time. I can cook" she repeated defensively.

"I still love you, you don't have to burn down the apartment trying to prove me wrong" this time she could hear the laugh in his voice and she grew annoyed.

"When you come home tomorrow I'm going to have a meal prepared. And you are going to eat your words…literally! And then you'll have to tell me I'm right, and I'll win" Cristina said haughtily.

And now she was here, staring at her groceries…and worried that she would be the one eating her words tonight. She had thought Callie would be able to help since she claimed to make a great Chicken Piccata, but she was on-call tonight. Izzie, Queen of the Kitchen, was still delegated to resting full-time after another surgery and Meredith would be just as lost and useless in the kitchen as Cristina.

Cristina decided to turn on one of her favorite cardio films in the background to get her more focused—surgeries did that for her. Okay, first…stick pasta in boiling water. She put the small pot on the stove that she had used the two other times she had ever made pasta. After the water was boiling, she realized that she would need double and then some of the amount of pasta she normally made to keep Owen full. She dumped in the pasta…it was going to spill so she took out some water. Perfect, the water was still enough to keep the pasta submerged, so crisis averted. She really was good on her feet.

With the pasta coming along, she took the chicken and put some of the dried oregano on top and popped it in the oven. After the chicken was out (she was proud to say it was completely cooked) and the pasta and drained. She heated up some sauce and then went to take a shower.

Once she came out, she had enough time to turn off her video when she heard keys jangling and the door opening.

"It smells good in here" Owen said, putting his luggage by the door and removing his jacket. Cristina ran over and jumped into his arms.

"You bet your ass it does" she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. They managed to look at each other for half a minute before letting their mouths have at each other. Owen nibbled on her bottom lip and she ran her hands through his red hair. He sighed as they pulled apart and put her back on the ground. "You smell like airplane"

"I know…but I'm so hungry. And I want to take a long shower tonight" Owen said huskily, putting his hand on the small of her back and letting it creep up below her shirt. He wagged his eyebrows at her, exaggeratedly, and Cristina let out a throaty laugh.

"Well then you will be needing your energy" she said, presenting the table.

"Well done, looks like I stand corrected" Owen said, pulling out Cristina's chair for her. He sat next to her and helped himself. He piled his plate with some pasta, but had some difficulty doing so as it was clumped and gummy. He then put on some sauce that was smelled somewhat burnt and then took a piece of chicken that he had a feeling was over-seasoned. He flashed her a smile but she seemed anxious.

"It's just pasta, sauce, and chicken" Cristina said, poking at her own pasta, warily.

"This is…um" Owen started, then chewed on his clumpy pasta with some difficulty. Cristina sighed and cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. Owen moved onto the piece of chicken she had baked and cut a piece. Once he put it in, he coughed and swallowed. "This has a…lot…of flavor. What did you use?" he asked, trying to sound curious rather than disgusted.

"Fine" Cristina jumped up, and threw her napkin on the table. "You want to say it—you want to say I suck at cooking. If you want to, just say it" She moved to leave but Owen took Cristina's hand and kept her there.

"Cristina, come on, I just got back. I don't want to fight" Owen said desperately. "It really isn't very good, but I'm glad you wanted to try…"

"So you're telling me how much it sucked…nicely" Cristina said sardonically, rolling her eyes.

"I told you that I love you. I don't care if you can't cook. Why does it matter?" Owen said sternly. She sat back down and sighed.

"I'm a genius in the OR, brilliant. If you ever rupture your esophagus, I'm _the_ person you want around. But I'm so helpless in there" she motioned to the kitchen. "Why can't I cook?"

"Cristina, did you put in as much water to pasta and the box said to?" Owen asked softly.

"Um…I didn't realize that was on the box…I just knew to put some water in"

"Did you read whether the chicken recipe wanted fresh herbs or dried?" Owen continued, still not adding condescension to his tone.

"Not really, I just threw some of it in. I mean, it's all the same…or at least I thought so at the time " she said, leaning back in the chair, annoyed that her last hour and a half had been for naught and that their would-be glorious reunion had been ruined by her terrible cooking.

"Cristina, you're brilliant in the OR, with medicine, because you're so meticulous. You study, you practice…you're meticulous. It doesn't hurt that you have a gift for it, but you work at it too. Just be as meticulous with cooking and you'll be on Iron Chef next year" he said, putting his hand on her knee and giving it a squeeze. There was a silence.

"Are you still hungry?" Cristina asked, getting up and throwing her gummy pasta into the trash.

"Yes, starving…" Owen said uneasily. "I'll just make an omelet or something"

"No, I want to make it" Cristina said defiantly as she went to grab the eggs from the fridge. "Practice…"

"Fine…" Owen said, moving to stand behind her and she unsuccessfully cracked the egg into a bowl, shells falling in.

"Dammit" Cristina said, throwing the rest of the shell into the mix too.

"Breathe" Owen commanded, reaching around her and tossing out the shattered egg. "Try again" he weaved his fingers into both of hers and collectively they grabbed another egg. "One clean break is all you want" he whispered in her ear, then tapping the egg on the side of the bowl. Cristina wondered, for a brief moment, if Owen realized that the worst thing he could do for her concentration was to keep breathing lightly on her ear the way he was.

Once they had cracked the eggs he put his hand over hers as they whipped the eggs.

"I can do _this_" she said, bucking backwards to push him off. She meant it to be in defiance but it had really just made heat rise between them. Owen briefly let his head fall and rest on her shoulder, almost as if he was contemplating whether the hunger pangs were really worth making them wait, but Cristina wanted to make this damn omelet, so he knew nothing would be stopping her. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off of her and got some vegetables, ham, and cheese to throw in and while it had mostly lost its shape after a few unsuccessful flip attempts, it finally landed on Owen's plate.

"Delicious" he said, smiling at her.

"You haven't tried it yet" Cristina said, cocking her head to the side and pursing her lips. Owen grinned at her and stuffed a large piece into his mouth.

"Really…it's very good. In fact, I'm suddenly so energetic…" he said, after he had finished and placed the dish in the sink. "you know, all that protein" he walked over and put his arms around Cristina. He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and sighed while planting a few kisses. The scruff rubbing lightly on her skin made her giggle involuntarily and she promptly dropped the spatula and unbuttoned his shirt enough to pull it off over his head. She pulled his face into hers and kissed him, her mouth working ferociously with his.

"If only there were a way" she said in the quick gasps between their kisses, "that we could work off some of that energy…and work up an appetite so I could practice my cooking again"

"Lucky for you, I've been imagining ways for us to burn some energy all week" and with that Owen took her up into a fireman's lift and carried her into the bedroom. Cristina laughed, kicking the door shut behind her.


End file.
